Skyrim Chronicles: Calm Before the Storm
by Masterless
Summary: The Skyrim world of "Onyx". After Alduin was banished, this ebony Dragonborn still wanders the hostile lands searching. Killing. Shouting. Purging. Defining his presence in both cruelty and grace. The trio of Onyx, Serana, and Kharjo learn what it is like to fight a legendary beast.
I can barely hear their voices. With how jarred my head is from the impact, one can hardly decipher what they are saying. But I don't need to hear what they are trying to say since the visual signs are everywhere. I can conclude that it was just the beginning. As the frozen ground below me starts to decrease in temperature, I quickly push off to my feet and prepare for the worse. And the _worse_ is definitely all that greets me.

" _Wuld_!" I push backwards, hardly avoiding the deadly force of the gigantic weapon it holds. I would say that for the most part, I had avoided the immediate danger, but the fact that a frost cloak seems to surround this behemoth of an opponent….I avoided nothing. Especially when the said frost cloak lets out a force of wind, akin to that of a master frost spell, burning cold and so strong that it pushes me back, hitting the walls of this cavern once more. Again I find myself shaken and in pain, but I grab my blade and push to my feet again. "Move! Move!" My allies were not spared from the same fate as I suffered and so I grab Serana by her arm and pull her up to her feet. The danger is far from over.

"No, you move!" I feel Serana shove me aside as she tries to repel the onslaught of the Frost Giant with an unrelenting display of destruction magic; fire against frost; Vampire against an ancient ghost. Her left hand continues to unleash a wave of flames and with her right, she lets loose a fireball which exploded on impact. The explosion hardly caused the beast to flinch. The frost cloak protected the giant from Serana's spell and sooner or later, she will be over taken.

" _Yol Toor Shul!_ " like Serana's flame spells, my breath of fire is deterred by the frost cloak surrounding the ghost; like a small drop of paint when it hits a river, the fire fades away, leaving the behemoth unbothered by my attempt, leaving it free to continue its rampage. "Serana!" when its fist comes crashing down where Serana is standing, part of me truly thought the worse and to anyone who wasn't aware of the Vampire's ability would truly believe that our colossal opponent crushed Serana underneath its strength. Of course I knew better. With the horde of bats flying in unison and guided by a tendril of black mist flying through the giant's frost cloak, my knowledge of Serana's ability stands true. The Lady of Volkihar is safe; for now.

"By Secunda, what in Oblivion did I tell you two?" of course I won't hear the end of it. Kharjo, my other companion in this endeavor, did nothing but educate Serana and I about the Frost Giant that supposedly haunted these mountains: Kaarstag. As we progressed, gathered information, and finally found the skull, we were starting to believe the tales about the powerful and ancient beast that lurked in these mountains. Then the moment of summoning the beast (which involved a giant snow storm sending us all flying like a ragdoll, much to our dismay) forced us to see Kharjo's point. "This is a terrible idea!" the Khajiit shouts as he deals with the ice wraiths. In the mean time, I am also occupied with my own set of problems—as is Serana who is currently keeping Kaarstag's focus on her as she hovers about him in her mist form.

"You can gloat later!" I cut an ice wraith down before rolling out of the way of another one. I was hoping that the frost-based wisps would keep their focus on Kharjo, but as with everything else with this encounter, _nothing_ seems to be that easy.

"This one plans to!"

As another wraith ceases to be with a slash, Karstaag lets out a howl that signifies that he is done trying to swat away a horde of evasive bats. He has had less success of attacking Serana in this form, which leaves him to increase the ferocity of his already destructive frost storm. The result is something that does not bode well for the three of us. Neither mortal or wraiths are spared from the attack and once again I find myself faltering back as a thick and deadly storm sweeps across the cavern, annihilating anything without a strong foundation. Rocks falls from above and whatever shrine was set up in dedication to this beast starts to fly all about me, forcing me to either dodge or use Peryite's gift as a means to protect myself. The dwemer shield can hold against the onslaught of everything that the storm threw at me physically, but the ward can only hold its enchantment for so long. Unfortunately Karstaag's attack outlasts the shield, which means that calling on my Dunmer fire would be my next action—a desperate act but affective enough since it lasted until Karstaag's spell ends.

"Onyx…!"

With the storm reducing back to a normal frost cloak (as normal as it would be when it covers a giant), I hear Serana's voice and the visual I get is as dire as the way she called my name. Kaarstag managed to catch her, completely dispelling her evasive form and pinning her down with his massive hand on the ground. The only thing keeping her from being crushed by Kaarstag's girth is the use of her fire spell, which acts an extra layer to go in between herself and the horrible death that would come from being squashed by Kaarstag's size. Though it's quite obvious she is straining herself far too much to be able to maintain the position—completely cornered on her back, Serana is at a disadvantage in every way. Not wasting anymore time, I reignite my Ancestors' Wrath before I push off with both legs and charge.

" _Wuld Nah Kest_!" Even with those three words, the violent and powerful cloak that surrounds Karstaag makes the task of getting close to the giant a strenuous one. Pieces of the cavern, bones, and carcasses of reiklings and boars hover about me, some hitting me, and others I have to cut down in order to get the proper range I need. But when I find myself toppling over from getting struck by an unseen object, the possibility of getting close to the Frost Giant seems lost. With Kharjo nowhere to be found and with the storm keeping me down on the ground, Serana will most likely meet the fate of being crushed by the strength of this beast. Of course that thought alone is something I cannot accept especially when I am on all fours and giving in to a frost cloak. I've faced the World Eater and won. I have taken down some of the most dangerous men, mer, and beast Tamriel has to offer. The Volkihar Lord paid with his immortal life for crossing my path. Dragons know my name and shudder at my existence. I am _the_ Dovahkiin. And at this moment, Serana needs me and I can't let her fall at the hands of this frost giant. Using Muramasa to aid me to my feet, I call upon my Dunmer fire, letting the surge of ancient unholy flame pour out of my body, deterring some of the storm's wrath. " _Wuld Nah…!_ " like a sword of fire, I cut through the storm, my Akaviri blade held tightly with both hands, as I hack through the myriad of things hovering all around and obstructing my path. "…. _Kest!_ " and with that last word, I achieve the range I need; Karstaag is now within my reach.

Though the giant seems to have more intuition. A straightforward attack would have been the best option to save time but with Karstaag's club wielding hand coming down at my path, I quickly deviate to the side, barely avoiding the gigantic blunt weapon as it strikes the ground, causing more tremors, and obviously hindering some of my momentum. But I have acquired what I needed in terms of range and Karstaag's strength is only dangerous if he is able to hit me; luckily my speed is greater than it, which made hitting me an arduous task even for the fabled Frost Giant of Solstheim. Soon it lets off from putting pressure on Serana and it gives me its undivided attention, letting out a few howls of anger and pain as I continue to attack both its leg with Muramasa. Evading out of its massive hand, I quickly slash away at the back of its leg with a horizontal cut, then coming back by plunging my blade right through its spectral form, finally forcing the beast to stumble and drop to its knee. Even ghost forms of these beasts seem to respond when having the back of their leg punctured. Though I'll admit, unlike the frost giants whom I have faced in the Forgotten Vale, Karstaag took a bit more effort to weaken his stance. This beast also does not bleed given its spectral form, but an enchanted blade like Muramasa will always do the trick—that and a whole lot of magic. Speaking of, I feel a flow of magicka emanating from behind me and with a smirk under my masque, I roll to the side and quickly glance towards the origin of that power. I catch the view of Serana calling forth on her magicka. The act of her making small circular motions with her arms as bursts of hostile and lethal light dance about her is a majestic sight; it also conveys to me exactly what she is about to throw. Despite her injuries and her fatigue, the rage that still lingers within Serana exudes from the magic that she is gathering. And with the gesture of pushing both her hands forward, the spell is released.

"This won't end well for you!" at first Serana's efforts are met with Karstaag's hindering frost cloak—the same one I managed to pierce through not too long ago. Though Serana's conviction is absolute and so is her mastery in the arcane arts. Giving another effort by pushing forward, the lighting spell cuts through he cloak and strikes the frost giant with all the vehemence that Serana intended. I've been hit with more than enough shock spells in my lifetime and given the amount of magicka Serana accumulated in her Lightning storm spell, I would imagine that the pain is more than enough even for someone like Karstaag. Unfortunately, he isn't falling down as quickly as one would hope even with a master level spell.

"Merrunz will continue to curse the two of you for this debacle!" one after another, enchanted arrows collide with Karstaag, which means that my Khajiit companion is alive and well. I can't express just how much it brings solace to know that Kharjo is safe; especially when he is using his expertise in the bow to help turn the tide of the battle. "Kharjo will never let you hear the end of this!"

I am relieved, even if Serana and I will never hear the end of his tirade. But hearing what he has to say is a much better conclusion for this little encounter compared to what Karstaag has in mind. And speaking of the end, " _Tiid Klo Ul_!" it's time to end this. Using them may be difficult, but those words carry the weight of time, thus using them isn't exactly something I can risk all the time, but judging from the situation, it is now or never. With the world moving in such a slow pace, every detail, every sound, and every moment is for me to witness. The crack of lightning hovering in their dangerous paths can be quite a visual especially when one is able to observe their deadly dance in slow motion. Kharjo's arrows, aimed true and with a linear path is also a daring sight to see as they cut through the air in order to strike their target. Then the beast known as Karstaag—the ferocity in his face is ever so obvious as he strains to fight the pain from both Serana's and Kharjo's attacks. Even it isn't spared from the power of the Thu'um and I intend to make every second count. " _Su Grah Dun_!" I shout as soon as I am in range and with my enhanced speed, I take the closest target, cutting upwards and forcing the frost giant to stumble backwards in pain as his face and all four of its eyes suffer. With time at my grasp, I strike again, cutting downwards in the opposite direction, hitting Karstaag in the same area as before. As he continues to move backwards in a slow manner, I push my attacks, hacking at his one leg before turning my body to attack the other. I continue the onslaught with his arms, this time cutting an arm by leaping, and landing to perform the same tactic. I have no mercy. I do not relent. Each maneuver intended to take out Karstaag's foundations. By the second arrow Kharjo released, I had already hacked away at vitals; enough to topple any giant fall on the ground. Though Karstaag is no regular giant and treating him as such would be detrimental. So I resume my unrelenting assault.

To push forth the pressure, I summon Dawnbreaker and immediately strike Karstaag with it. The result is as effective as I could hope. The sword that is created through holy fire does not agree with something like Karstaag—an undead being lurking in Nirn, cheating death and corrupting life. While every time I struck Karstaag with Muramasa felt like hitting a crumbling wall, Dawnbreaker on impact felt like a blade cutting through a body of water. _A scorching hot blade that is_. With time slowed down, every cut I make shows every detail and it allows me to see the distortion Dawnbreaker causes on Karstaag's spectral form. Like a body of water when it is disturbed, Meridia's gift causes ripples with every strike and paired up with Muramasa, Kharjo's arrows, and Serana's spell, Karstaag is given no reprieve. So I continue to unleash the fury, ending it with a rather unorthodox and yet affective spin, forcing both the Daedric Artifact and the Akaviri Blade to topple the beast with a few more damaging slash from both. Then as if on cue, I end my attacks as soon as time starts to revert back to its normal speed and so I hop backwards before flipping away. I land with Muramasa in hand and Dawnbreaker retracted, watching with a smirk as Karstaag falls over.

The moment the spectral giant falls on his back, Serana's spell comes to an end. Either it's because the battle seems to be over, or perhaps she ran dry of magicka, one can only assume. The fact that she is standing with a haggard and forced stance insinuates that both her magicka and stamina are pushed to the limits. Though despite being depleted, I can tell that she still has some fight left in her—even if the battle is currently against the thought of giving in to the fatigue. Truth to be told, I'm also fighting that same battle. With a battle as arduous as the one we just fought, the thought of lying down on the ground right this very moment is a tempting idea.

"That… was … harder than I imagined it would… be…" as Serana said those words, Karstaag's spectral carcass lets out a feint glow before floating away in the form of blue mists.

"Harder than you imagined?" Kharjo responds to Serana's statement with the same aggressive tone. Clearly Serana will not be spared from being admonished. "Did the two of you _not_ listen to anything I was saying the whole time while we were pillaging the Reiklings' cave?"

"To be perfectly honest … with you… I tend to not allow myself to… listen to your senseless jabbering…." And of course Serana made no attempt to try and sway the conversation to another route. I swear to Boethiah that these two would kill each other if I wasn't around.

"SENSELESS?"

"Yes… _senseless_. Do you not know the word, cat? Perhaps I should educate you."

I would be more than elated to join in the senseless argument for the sake of humor. Nothing would bring me greater joy than to play with the ironic situation that the Khajiit is actually the one who was speaking in serious terms rather than joking around—a very rare occasion. However, despite Karstaag's spectral body dispelling itself and leaving only bones behind, somehow it feels as if its presence is still here. When its remains start to vibrate and eventually starts moving, I sigh in exasperation. I was hoping that said feeling was just my paranoia. "I think we were the ones being senseless, Serana," I say, grabbing the two of them by their arms and urging them forward. "We need go, now!"

"Jin, what—?" it was one thing for me to be this aggressive to Serana in public, it was another to side with Kharjo even if she is in the wrong. But with my sense of urgency, and the fact that she finally feels it, Serana immediately makes haste, breaking free of my grip and runs as fast as her tired body would allow her.

"By the Twin Moons, I told you!"

I give Kharjo a shove, forcing him to stumble for a moment before he is able to catch a good running pace. "Just go!" again I would want nothing more than to amuse him, but right now the gust of cold wind forming itself in a small tornado over Karstaag's remains is my main priority. Or at least it's my priority to get Serana, Kharjo, and myself as far away as possible before... An explosion of frost magic spreads with aggression causes everything around it to scatter in all corners of the cavern. The familiar eruption and the reappearance of the frost cloak only give breath to my assumption: Karstaag is far from done. Stumbling for a moment due to the force of the magic, I quickly retrace my steps, not bothering to turn around as I hear the frost giant's howl echo throughout the walls of the cavern.

"Does this thing ever die?" dusting off some of the snow on her, Serana looks over her shoulder as she strains her hand to conjure some spell with the magicka she had regained.

"I told you, Princess! That one does not simply _die_! It's—"

"Arguing about the facts and myths now won't help!" I cut in their squabbling. Sometimes it's astonishing how they can fight, run for their lives, and still manage to throw barbs at each other. "We won't beat this thing with our current condition! We must get out of the cavern!"

The best course of action is taking terrain into consideration. The cavern is far too closed in, not enough room to maneuver and far too restricted for some of my Thu'um to be as useful as they can be. But beating the giant is hardly something that is feasible at the moment. I doubt any one of us can stand up to Karstaag without fully stocked wares and fully rested. While I abhor the idea of retreating, it is the best chance we have. I can only hope that whatever enchantment is within these doors will hold even if Karstaag is fully summoned.

"Onyx! What are you doing?"

I wanted to respond to Serana with sarcasm. Is the image of me trying to push the door close really that foreign to her? Though it was best not to waste energy on that since the door isn't as easy to close as it was to open.

"Is it not obvious, Princess? He's trying to close the door!" of course Kharjo has enough energy to answer with spite. At least he is instigating Serana while trying to push the other door. But much to our disdain, the task isn't as simple as merely closing a door. The enchantments that kept it close was broken, now it's a mere stone door that requires several strong Nords for it to even budge—that or a dozen Argonians who are working under the whip of their Dunmer masters. Though it has to close or Karstaag will unleash havoc on Tamriel. With that thought in the forefront of my mind, the stone made door suddenly moves and perhaps all of my efforts are finally paying off… or perhaps the fact that it is glowing in crimson energy means that the work of magic is at play.

"Jin is trying. Perhaps you should try as well, Kharjo," altering the weight of the stone-made doors with her magic, Serana is able to aid us in our seemingly desperate endeavor. I'm more than relieved that still has some magicka left—of course I'm also grateful that she has the will to push herself. And I'm to going to need her perseverance along with Kharjo's to succeed with the small amount of time we are allotted. As it is, I can feel Karstaag's presence getting closer as the power of his frost cloak is hindering some of the progress.

"Just….. _focus_ on the task… at hand!" I urge admonishingly as I ignore my body trying to give in to the fatigue. My legs can no longer support me, but I keep walking, using every bit of my stamina to push. My arms feel like falling off, but I continue, fighting against the weight and the force of the frost giant's cloak. Kharjo, despite Serana's berating is also giving it his all—straining as much as I, both hoping that we can close the door in time. The Lady of Volkihar herself pushes her magicka to their limits and one can see that she is nearly on her knees in the process of doing so. And in that moment, just when I felt as if we might have to force ourselves to prepare for another head on collision with Karstaag, both doors shut, leaving Kharjo and myself leaning on its heavy form. For a few moments we remain where we are, putting all our weight on the door as we can feel Karstaag's presence trying to break through. If this were just a mere stone-made door, the ghost of this frost giant would have broken though without any problems. Luckily for us, it is far from just a mere door. The spell that was temporarily warded off by Serana starts to reform its purpose. Luminous, vivacious energy starts to weave itself on the stone like ink on parcel, ancient writing appears before spreading itself in meticulous patterns. It only lasted a few moments, but in that time, the light shined so bright that I'm sure it could be seen from a distance; that is if someone is actually brave enough to be out this time of the night in Solsetheim. "That went well." I say with some humor as I take a few steps back, listening and anticipating for some kind of sign to tell us otherwise that the battle has ended.

"Went well?" considering that no sound escapes from the other side of the door, I would say it went well. Kharjo of course thinks otherwise. "Had you listened to this one, we would not have had to gone through that!"

"Considering all the nonsense that sprouts out of your mouth, why are you so shocked that we decided against your warning?"

Kharjo lets out a sound that resembles a snarl towards Serana before speaking. This is going to escalate to heights that I can only fathom. "Onyx, you best tell the Princess that—"

"That what? You were right? Forgive me if the sound of that is not something I am willing to gamble on." and Serana isn't making any effort to decrease the intensity. In fact, she's throwing more logs to the fire, which will, as I said, escalate things to heights I can only imagine. That was expected.

"Many of my people know the story of the Nerevarine, Princess! He may have slain Karstaag, but he was not able to purge the world of it."

I sigh as they continue to bicker. I should stop it, but something about this is amusing to me.

"What if this Nerevarine of yours was just an embellished story? Would it be possible that your people merely took this hero to their own image and the real Nerevarine was indeed a Dunmer?"

Serana going the route she did caused more than enough agitation to an already furious Kharjo. Just _how_ furious he is can be seen, heard, and felt through his words. "Not all 'heroes' or champions have to be Dunmers, Princess! Slaves rise up against their masters and in this case, this Khajiit fulfilled a prophecy that would shake the foundations of his former masters."

"I'm half Breton," while it was not a necessary comment, I felt the need of warding some of the hostility. It didn't work. Kharjo barely acknowledged me and he continues his ranting, pouring all his anger at Serana.

"And besides, on that point you were trying to make, what if Onyx is _not_ the Dragonborn of legend? What if he is just another Dragonborn and the Nord Dovahkiin of prophecy is biding his time?"

Another _Dragonborn_. Aside from this Miraak person, I have never heard of two Dragonborns existing at the same time. For the longest time, I embraced my destiny for the sake of fulfilling something—for the sake of redemption, more or less. As the years went by, I started to acknowledge what I am. Took pride in _what_ I am and what I was meant to do and with the prophecy supposedly over, I have come to use what is asked of me as a means to compensate what I have always felt missing: happiness. I have done many things, won victories, met people, found respect… of course I have failed, lost people, and at times felt lacking, but at the end of it all, as I stand here listening to two of my closest companions bicker after the fact that we nearly lost our lives, I can honestly say that I am happy. Something I have not felt in decades. Having the soul of a dragon and being the 'one' is what gave me purpose and if this Miraak comes to challenge that then I will bring him destruction, the likes he has never seen before.

"Onyx is the Dragonborn of prophecy, you know that as well as I," Serana's statement brings me back to focus on the two of them. While I'm not at all offended that Kharjo would use the angle of me not being the Dragonborn to counter Serana, I was hoping that the Lady of Volkihar had something up her sleeves to step over it. "The fact that he was able to banish Alduin proves that. He has accomplished many things, saved many lives, and has even _saved yours_ in more ways than you can count. Dare you forget that?"

"Do not be a fool, Vampire. Onyx knows just how much Kharjo honors him."

"Then it was unwise for you to even question his destiny. You know him personally; Onyx is just not some hero of legend, he is your friend. What he has done, you cannot take that away from him."

"Him as a person was never in question for me. The title and the role was the one this one was questioning for the sake of what you were saying about _who_ the Neravarine is. The title does not make one a hero—he makes himself a hero. The Neravarine was a Khajiit slave and he could have easily used his powers to turn on his masters, but instead he followed Masser and Secunda's will and saved the lost people of Azurah," a slight pause as Kharjo takes a deep breath. "You cannot take what the Nerevarine is, Princess."

As Kharjo finishes his statement, I stand there waiting, eyes bouncing between the Khajiit and Serana as I wait. At one hand Serana could easily respond with more barbs and continue the quarrel. This could turn out to be one of the worst arguments these two have ever had if it goes that route—fortunately Serana merely shrugs her shoulders before turning her attention towards me, which means that she is done, I hope. While it seems that she is at last at the ending point of this useless bickering, she does seem to have a devious smile on her face as she walks towards me. This I have seen before—that smile, the way she is walking, that playful tone she is letting off. It only enhances as she practically drapes herself on me, leaning her body on me as she stares into my face; still smiling.

"Very well, you can have that, Kharjo," well that's the first, "but I will say that I want to entertain your thought about the Dragonborn being a different person and not a Dunmer like Onyx—"

"I'm half Breton."

"Let's just say he turned out to be a hulking Nord as some songs describe him as," and even Serana ignores my comment, "I would definitely say that he would have lost half his charm," she playfully runs her finger on the nose of my helmet as she stares at me with heavy eyes, "would you not agree, Kharjo?"

I am not one to complain when a woman is essentially using her wits and assets to her advantage; especially when it has some kind of satisfaction for me. However, the moment is rather off for Serana to be using this tactic—that and it is rather awkward. Kharjo expresses his discomfort rather fervently by letting out yet another agitated snarl before stomping away. "To _oblivion_ with you both!" he shouts as he continues to walk away. One of the many curses that escape his mouth as his voice fades into the distance. Turning my attention back to Serana, I slowly pull away as I take my helmet off.

"What?" she asks as if she wasn't aware as to why I would have a miffed expression written on my face. "It was getting rather awkward arguing in front of you."

"Oh and what you _just did_ wasn't awkward at all?"

"Oh it was! But at least it gave Kharjo a reason to walk off some of that anger that he is exuding rather violently."

She answers as if she is innocent to the whole thing. That devious smile of hers is just as agitating as it is attracting despite the strain the battle had caused on her visage. Then again, some dirt, a rather disheveled hair and the tattered ensemble will never take away Serana's beauty in my eyes. As she stands there obviously in pain and hampered by fatigue, Serana still manages to retain her confident stance, enticing me in such a way that Kharjo and her were just arguing mere moments after getting trampled by an undead frost giant almost slipped my mind. Or maybe that's just me being completely fascinated by her. Shaking my head slowly as I sigh, I decide that it's best to drop the conversation.

"We should get going. We still have much to do."

"How is your hand?" she grabs my left arm right as I was about to walk away.

"It's fine. No harm done."

"Using that sword has dire consequences for us, Jin. I hope you finally take heed to that before it is too late."

She tightens her grip as she said those words, inviting me to stare at the unity of her hands and mine. It is strange how such a small gesture could mean so much to all the races of Tamriel. The act of holding one's hand and reciprocating the action is monumental in signifying just how special one's connection is with the other. I smile as I close my hand on top of Serana's. "You won't have to worry about that pretty soon. After defeating this _First Dragonborn_ , I think I'll stay with you at Castle Volkihar." If Vampires could turn into stone like their Gargoyle familiars, I believe Serana just did with her mouth agape. There was an obvious sign of disbelief as she stares at me with wide eyes, hands slightly trembled in my grip, and words seem to come out as dull sounds. I chuckle as I pull her in, leaning my head closer so that my lips would be on her ear. "I'm assuming that you dislike that idea."

"Dislike? Do you jest? Jin, I do not think you understand the weight of your words or perhaps I misconstrued but… _stay with me at Castle Volkihar_ … for a few nights? A week? Or…?"

"When I finally claim my throne as the one true Dragonborn, I don't think I have anymore incentive for quests or anything like that," I pause as I pull away, ensuring that our eyes meet once again. "I think it's time for me to settle down and claim my peace."

The dumbfounded staring lasts for a bit before Serana lets out a small giggle, eliciting a confused reaction out of me. Luckily she planned on answered before I get _too_ confused. "Peace? You seek to reside in the name of peace at my castle? Surely you are jesting."

"Perhaps. But I'm sure I'll get less knocks on my door from a Housecarl of the High Queen or some Jarl with a request for me to take care of bandits."

"True, but you might get more hassle from Garan as he complains about Vingalmo's dastard schemes to take the Bloodstone Chalice all for himself."

"While that scene alone is more than plausible, I would not mind a few quarrels from Vampire Lords and Ladies as long as I am with you. After all, I'm around you and Kharjo often enough to gain some protection from constant bickering."

Serana smiles coyly—something I would never imagine Serana being capable of since she puts up a façade as a cold-hearted woman most times. The fact that I made her feel like that simply is a testament as to why I have believe that living the rest of my days with her is the path I need to take. To live the rest of my days in relative peace…. Wouldn't that be something? Though the sound of a dragon from the distance seems to indicate that peace will have to wait.

"If you do not mind me interrupting your tender moment **- _but-_** _we have a problem on our way_!"

Kharjo stating the obvious is something that I will miss when I decide to lay down my sword. Pulling away from Serana completely, I put my Masque over my face as I walk towards Kharjo's direction.

"Just let him get eaten and then you will have your peace," Serana states with both sarcasm and venom, eliciting a sigh out of me as I take out Avarice.

"Don't start or I'll consider retiring at Cyrodiil."

 **End.**


End file.
